There is an old saying our elders know well: when you lend your cutlass to clear the farm, don't be surprised if the borrower starts deciding which trees should fall.
Yesterday, the Legislature handed over something far more serious than a cutlass. By concurring to pass the Third Amendment to ArcelorMittal Liberia's Mineral Development Agreement, lawmakers handed over the keys to Liberia's rail system--and with it, a measure of their own authority.
This is not about being against investment. Liberia needs serious investors. It is not even about one company. This is about how a nation governs what belongs to everyone.
Hidden inside this amendment are the Rail System Operating Principles, or RSOPs. That sounds technical, but the meaning is simple. These are rules written by one company that, once passed, begin to bind everybody else--other investors, future operators, and even future governments. Lawyers call this "rules of general application." Ordinary people might call it this: one man writes the rules for the whole town.
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That is where the danger lies.
Our Constitution did not give lawmakers the power to pass laws today and lose the right to change them tomorrow. Article 34 says the Legislature has the power to make laws--and repeal them. Article 3 reminds us that power in Liberia is divided, so no one arm of government, and certainly no private company, can quietly take over what belongs to the people. These words were written because our history taught us painful lessons about concentrated power.
Yet the RSOPs do something strange. They turn a private agreement into something that behaves like national law. Once embedded and ratified, changing them becomes difficult without the comfort of the very company that drafted them. That is not how sovereign nations manage shared infrastructure. That is how future governments find their hands tied.
Think of it this way. If you own a family house and invite one tenant to help manage it, would you allow that tenant to write house rules that bind all future tenants--even after he moves out? Would you allow him to say, "I can change the rules later, and the family only needs to agree"? Any elder would say no. That house would soon stop feeling like family property.
This rail is not a private driveway. It is a national road made of steel--meant to serve today's investors and tomorrow's opportunities, including those on both sides of Liberia's borders. A fair, multiuser rail system cannot be built on rules written by the strongest user and locked into a contract.
There was also no fire chasing the Legislature. The existing agreement does not expire tomorrow. There was time to slow down, to separate the RSOPs, to let government lead a neutral process that serves everyone. When elders rush where patience would have saved them, people begin to ask uncomfortable questions.
Liberians are also not blind. They know some lawmakers do business with the same company whose deal they were asked to approve. The Constitution speaks clearly about conflicts of interest and about money in politics for a reason. We make no accusations here. But wisdom teaches that even the appearance of divided loyalty weakens trust, and trust is the currency of governance.
Our people also say, "the path you choose in daylight is the one you will walk at night." Years from now, when new investors ask why access is difficult, or when future lawmakers struggle to reform rail governance, this vote will be remembered. History does not shout when these decisions are made. It whispers, then writes.
This editorial is not written in anger, but in warning. Liberia has seen this scene before--power slowly shifting away from the people, wrapped in technical language, defended as urgency. It never ends well.
To those who voted yes, remember this: authority once given away is rarely returned willingly. And when the reckoning comes, it will not ask who meant well. It will ask who knew--and chose to proceed anyway.
No one should say they were not told.